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8 T O R Y /lT?f- 

THE PRODIGAL. 



BY THE AUTHOR O F THE " HAPPY FAMILY," AND u STORY 
OF RUTH THE MOABITESS." 



Written for the Massachusetts Sabbath School Society, and revised 
by the Committee of 1 ublication. 





BOSTON: 

MASSACHUSETTS SABBATH SCHOOL SOCIETY. 
Depository JNo. 25 Cornhill. 

183 6. 




Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1836/ 

By Christopher C. Dean, 
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 



5V> -V 



The Library 
of Congress 

WASHINGTON 



CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. 
C Two Brothers. One of them is discontented. He 
wishes to leave home. Persuades his father to 
divide his property between him and his older 
brother. Goes away to a distant country. 14 

CHAPTER II. 
How this young man was employed. How he 
wasted his property. A famine. He is likely to 
suffer. . . . . . . . 2J 

CHAPTER IN. 

Our spendthrift hires himself out. Has a hard mas- 
ter. Is on the point of starving. What can he do ? 
He comes to himself. Returns to his father. 27 

CHAPTER IV. 
The young man's arrival. His father goes out to 
meet him. Forgives him. Arrays him in the 
best apparel. Makes a feast for him. Conduct 
of his elder brother 37 

CHAPTER V. 
Reflections on the foregoing. ... 52 
1* 



To the Boys and Girls that go to Sabbath School. 



My dear young friends, 

I am about to tell you a story which 
I suppose to be true, though I am not quite cer- 
tain. It is about two young men, who were 
brothers, but who were of very different char- 
acters. I cannot tell you precisely where they 
lived, but it was somewhere in Asia — and I 
believe in the western part, near the Mediter- 
ranean sea. Nor do I know when they lived, 
exactly ; but it must have been about two 
thousand years ago ; or perhaps more than that. 
And if you should ask me what their names 
were, I could not tell you either. Nor is it of 
so much consequence — -though we all should 
like to know, if we could, what their names 



vm 

were, and when or where they lived — as 
how they lived. It is of less consequence to 
live in a particular country, or at a particular 
time, than to live right. 

Many people think that their own country is 
the finest place in the world, and that their own 
times are the most favorable. They think their 
own complexion is the best ; their own name the 
prettiest ; their parents, brothers, sisters, and 
neighbors, better than the parents and other 
relatives and neighbors of other persons in 
other places ; and their houses and schools and 
churches better than those of any body else. 
And they have the same partialities, too, in 
regard to their own laws, government^ manners, 
customs, &lc. 

Now all this is natural enough, especially to 
children who have not lived very long in the 
world, and who have consequently seen but 
little of it. And it is not only natural, but to 



ix 

some extent, right. Still, we must be careful 
about carrying these feelings too far. We are 
so much better acquainted with persons and 
things just around us, and see so many beauties 
and excellencies in them, that it is no wonder 
we prefer them to other persons and things of 
which we know comparatively nothing. 

But when we come to be older, and have an 
opportunity to find out by reading, and by con- 
versation and observation, that there are good 
and bad countries, and soils, and climates, and 
laws, and people, and houses, and manners, and 
customs, in almost every part of the world, we 
are certainly to blame if we continue to indulge 
the feelings of our early childhood so strongly 
as to think that all countries and people, and 
things, are wholly bad, because they are a 
great way off. 

And yet a great many boys and girls seem 
to do this. They seem to think that people 



X 



seven or eight or ten thousand miles off, must 
be savages, or barbarians, almost as a matter of 
course. So that if they are going to hear a 
story about a person who lived a great way off, 
they are prejudiced against him ; that is, they 
begin to dislike him before they know hardly 
any thing at all about him. It is just so with 
some boys and girls when they find that a story 
relates to a person who lived several thousand 
years ago. They do not like it, even if they 
know it to be true. It is only when they find 
that the person about whom they are going to 
read or hear, is still alive, or has died very 
lately, that they will attend to the story with 
much interest. 

Now if this little book should fall into the 
hands of any such children as I have now been 
describing ; and if they take it up and read 
this letter, I expect they will so no further. 



xi 

<c We don't wish to hear about a young man 
who lived two thousand years ago, and five or 
six thousand miles off/' they will probably say. 

Well, let them say so, if they will. If they 
will not read it, others may. There are nearly 
two hundred thousand boys and girls in the 
State of Massachusetts alone ; besides hundreds 
of thousands in the other New England States 
and elsewhere. And out of such a large number, 
I think very many will be found to read the story. 
If they do, I hope they will be pleased with it, 
and that their minds will be improved at the 
same time, and their hearts made better. 

W. A. A. 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



CHAPTER L 

Two Brothers. One of them is discontented. 
He wishes to leave home. Persuades his 
father to divide his property between him 
and his older brother. Goes away to a dis- 
tant country. 

There were once two brothers, the 
eldest of whom was quiet and happy 
at home with his father, while the oth- 
er was apt to be discontented ; and by 
indulging in these unhappy feelings, he 
made himself continually miserable. — 
What led him into this state of feeling 
was the notion that home w 7 as a dull 
and tedious place ; that his father was 
2 



14 



STOHY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



not so indulgent with him as he ought 
to be ; and that if he could only get 
fairly away from his parents, he should 
be a great deal better off. 

He was by no means the only young 
person that has thought so. I have 
known multitudes of boys, who had this 
very same disposition, and the very 
same feelings ; but they always make 
boys unhappy. Even if they go away 
from home, and do not fall into any par- 
ticular troubles or dangers, they still 
have their old disposition with them ; 
and that is always sufficient to embitter 
all their happiness. 

If those discontented boys, who run 
away from home, could, by so doing, 
run away from their bad dispositions, it 
would often be well for them to <*o : 
but that seldem happens. 

Young men — sometimes before they 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



15 



arc twenty years of age — are very fond 
of indulging the idea that they are now 
old enough to do business for them- 
selves. They are tired of having their 
parents contrive for them; — they wish 
to be their own masters. A sad mis- 
take, this ! It has been the ruin of 
many a young man. 

The youth, whose story 1 am going 
to relate, after having made himself 
miserable, for a long time, with his un- 
easy feelings and anxious desires to get 
away from the parental roof, one day 
proposed to his father to let him have 
his share of the property. It w T as cus- 
tomary in some Eastern nations, for 
young men, when they came to be of 
age, to make this demand of their 
father ; and when they did so, it was 
the custom for the father to grant it. — 
The oldest son always had twice as 



16 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



much as the other sons. The father of 
this young man seeing that he was ur- 
gent, and knowing, too well, his dispo- 
sition, and that it would be useless to 
reason with him, immediately di- 
vided his property between his two 
sons. 

And now what do you suppose the 
two brothers did with their property ? 
You will easily guess, no doubt, after 
what I have already told you. The 
oldest continued to live with his father 
on the homestead ; but the youngest 
collected all his portion together, con- 
verting every thing, probably, into mon- 
ey ; and in a few days left the home of 
his youth, and went off. 

But where did he go ? To the next 
town ? To some peaceful and happy 
neighborhood, not far from his father's 
house, where he could be perfectly in- 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 17 



dependent and do as he pleased ; and 
yet not be so far from his native home 
but what he could hear from his friends 
occasionally ? 

Oh, no! far from this. He did just 
what a great many other boys have 
done. He went as far off- — almost — -as 
he could get. He went to such a dis- 
tance that his friends — so far as I can 
learn— could not hear from him ; for, as 
we shall see before we get to the end 
of the story, his father gave him up for 
lost. 

It is strange that runaway boys 
should take this course ; though they 
often do. It is strange they are not 
contented with going half or a quarter 
of the distance they usually do, in such 
cases. Then, if any thing happened, 
which they did not foresee, they might 
return, perhaps, or at least send. But 
2 * 



18 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



no ; they seem to be thoughtless about 
the future : and seem to think that the 
farther off they go, the better. 

The truth is, most of them have a 
strong belief that they shall make out 
well, if they can only get away from 
home. This confidence in themselves, 
and their own ability to manage well, 
appears to blind them. Many boys in 
these days, fix their eyes on some per- 
son who went away from home early in 
life, and was successful ; and think they 
shall turn out as he did. Perhaps they 
think of Dr. Franklin. But what a 
mistake it is to take Dr. Franklin as 
our example, when for one runaway boy 
who succeeds as he did, at least a hun- 
dred others are ruined ! 

It is not so much to be wondered at 
that boys should feel a wish to see dis- 
tant places, and that they should even 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 19 



desire to leave home. But, as I have 
just intimated, they ought to consider 
how few who go away succeed ; how 
many get into bad company, and even 
into prison, or come to the gallows ; 
and how few remain virtuous, or ever 
return. They ought to know, too, that 
though they are so anxious to get away, 
almost every boy is usually more anx- 
ious to return afterward, than he was 
to go away. 

But I have not yet told you where 
the young man went. I have only told 
you where he did not go ; and that he 
went a great distance. Indeed this is 
all I know about it. How he spent his 
time and his money in that distant land, 
I will tell you in the next chapter. 



20 



STOBY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



CHAPTER II. 

How this young man was employed. How he 
wasted his property. A famine. He is 
likely to suffer. 

This young man had now gained his 
point, and fairly got free from his father ; 
and was so far off that none of his ac- 
quaintances would be likely to see 
him, or hear from him. " And now," 
thought he,— as a thousand boys and 
young men have thought in similar cir- 
cumstances, — " I can do just exactly 
as I please." And he did do as he 
pleased ; but he paid dear for it. 

Do you ask what it was that he did ? 
Why, he wasted his property, to begin 
with. He lived highly and extrava- 
gantly, as well as fell into bad com- 
pany. 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 21 



He was probably one of those peo- 
ple who think — when they get a little 
money — that it will last always ; or 
rather, who act as if they thought so. 
The truth, probably, is, that they do 
not think at all. 

There are very few people who can 
bear to receive large sums of money 
suddenly, and without earning them. I 
have known many a man whose head 
seemed to be turned by the sudden ac- 
quisition of a little money. One gen- 
tleman, in particular, whom I knew, 
and who had always been poor, and a 
hard laborer, drew about two thou- 
sand dollars in a lottery. This raised 
him quite " above his business," as the 
saying is ; and it was but a few years 
before he was in greater poverty than 
before. In fact, the money seemed to 
make him partially insane. And it was 



22 STORY or THE PRODIGAL. 



not till his money was gone again that 
he seemed to come to himself, and ap- 
pear like the same man that he was 
before. 

It appears to hai :e been nearly the 
same with the young man whose story 
I am relating. He was not used to 
the. possession of considerable sums of 
money. And I have no doubt his head 
was turned. Otherwise it would be 
difficult to account for his spending his 
property as rapidly as he did. For he 
was not long in wasting the w hole of it. 

If you should ask in what particular 
ways -of extravagance, and in what par- 
ticular sorts of bad company he indulg- 
ed, I could not so easily tell you. — 
Whether it was in costly food, clothes, 
drink, furniture, houses, horses or car- 
riages, or in all of them, I cannot say. 
Whether he indulged in drunkenness, I 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 23 

cannot tell you, either. They had no 
distilled spirits, in those days; but they 
had wine, and perhaps arrack;* and it 
was very easy to get drunk on either of 
those, if a person was so wickedly 
disposed, as to do so. 

He might have been a gambler. I 
have known a great many young men 
become spendthrifts, and finally turn out 
not only wasteful, but vicious, by means 
of the gaming table. It is a terrible 
place ; and I hope every reader of this 
story w ill shun it, as much as he w ould 
a house infected with the small pox. 

To add to the young man's distress, 
now that his money was gone, there 
was a famine in the country where he 

* Arrack is a liquor made by distilling the juice of the 
cocoa nut tree. It contains alcohol, and will intoxicate, 
like wine, or cider, or beer, and though much used in some 
Eastern countries, is not a whit more wholesome than those 
drinks are. 



24 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



lived. You already know that some of 
the Eastern countries are subject to 
famine, and always have been ; Pales- 
tine especially. Do you not recollect 
the famines in the times of Abraham, 
Isaac, Jacob, Elimelech, Elijah and 
David ? One of these — that in the 
time of Elijah — lasted, I think, about 
three years. This must have been a 
terrible time indeed ; and such, in fact, 
the Bible represents it. 

The famine which befel our young 
spendthrift was also a severe one. And 
what could he do ? He was not only- 
destitute, but among strangers. But 
where were his companions, with whom 
he had spent his time, and wasted his 
money? Would not they assist him a 
little, in his distress ? Surely they did 
not desert him, you will say. 

Alas ! these companions in vice, are 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 25 



among the last persons in the world to 
help each other when in trouble. They 
will take a course which will lead both 
themselves and others into difficulty ; 
but they will never help one another out. 
Nay, they sometimes seem to have a 
kind of malicious joy, at seeing each 
other in misery. Oh, no ; these were 
by no means the persons to apply to for 
aid. 

Now for the first time in his life, he 
began to feel the pinching hand of 
want. Perhaps I ought to have told 
you, before now, that he was brought 
up in the midst of an abundance of all 
the comforts of life ; for he not only 
had a good father — one that probably 
tried to educate him well, and fit him 
for usefulness, — but I think there is 
reason to believe that he was wealthy. 

Boys who are brought up in the 
3 



26 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



midst of want — I had almost said of 
starvation — do not mind it so much in 
after life, if they come to suffer again ; 
but the sons of those men who live in 
the midst of ease and affluence, if they 
come to want, are very poorly qualified 
to endure it. 

Our young man was, as I suppose, 
and as I have already told you, one of 
the latter sort. He was also proud, 
and he was ashamed to go to work, in 
order to gain a living. But necessity 
soon humbled his pride ; and, as we 
shall see presently, taught him one of 
the most important of lessons. 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



27 



CHAPTER III. 

Our spendthrift hires himself out. Has a hard 
master. Is on the point of starving. What 
can he do 1 He comes to himself Re- 
turns to his father. 

We left the young man — in the last 
chapter — in great distress. He was 
destitute of money, without friends, 
and far from home. Yet it does not ap- 
pear that he had, thus far, any thoughts 
of returning. His pride was not yet 
sufficiently humbled for that. Or if he 
had thought of it, probably he supposed 
his father and brother would not receive 
him. 

But something must be done, imme- 
diately, or he must starve. So he went 
and hired himself out to a citizen of 
the country where he was, to perform 



28 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL, 



any kind of labor about which the man 
chose to employ him. 

This man appears to have been a per- 
son of considerable property, possessing, 
among other things, flocks and herds. 
You know that it is customary, in many 
Eastern countries, to keep, not only cattle 
and sheep in herds, but even swine ; and 
that they have somebody to take care 
of each herd. The keeper of a flock 
or herd of sheep, is called a shepherd ; 
and the keeper of a herd of cattle sim- 
ply a herdsman. But what they call 
the keeper of a herd of swine, I am 
unable to tell you. — Sometimes, in- 
deed, I have heard him called a swine- 
herd ; but I do not know that this name 
is very common. It fell to the lot of 
this young man to be sent out into the 
gentleman's fields to take care of his 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 29 



jerd of swine. This was a kind of 
business which, of all others, he most 
disliked to do ; for the swine w r as con- 
sidered in that country, as a very mean 
animal ; and the business of attending 
a herd of swine as very mean business. 
But what else could he do ? He must 
work, or leave. 

To add still more to his distress, he 
had fallen into the hands of a hard mas- 
ter. His master had not only placed 
him in an employment which he mor- 
tally hated, but had given him only a 
scanty allowance of food. — In fact, he 
became so hungry that he w T ould gladly 
have eaten some of the food which his 
master or the steward had measured 
out for the swine, had he dared to do 
so. — And if he undertook to beg of any 
body, — such was the scarcity that no- 
body was willing to give him any thing. 
3* 



30 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



Hunger is a very distressing sensa- 
tion. It is so difficult to endure it, that 
men will sometimes steal to ease the 
pain. Hence the proverb ; " Hunger 
will break through a stone wall." Why 
the young man did not steal in the 
present instance, I am not able to tell 
you ; for the book from which this story 
is drawn does not inform us. 

Real hunger, however, is what very 
few people, in this land of abundance, 
ever feel. We have no famines here ; 
and even common street beggars can 
usually get enough given them to pre- 
vent their being really hungry. Chil- 
dren, I know, sometimes think they 
are hungry, because they do not have 
dinner or supper at just such a time. 
But this is nothing. It would not hurt 
them to go without one meal a day, for 
once or twice a week. But to have 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 31 



only half food enough to sustain them, 
and this of a coarse and bad quality ; 
and to be thus straitened, day after day, 
and week after week ; — this will pro- 
duce real hunger. And this was the 
case, I suppose, with the young man. 

Now came the extremity. — What 
could he do ? To stay where he was 
would never answer. But was there 
any better prospect of employment be- 
fore him? He had done the best he 
could, in the present instance. He 
had found such employment as he was 
able to find. And yet here he was, 
wretched, famishing, and of course 
miserable. 

In this hour of distress, he came to 
himself. He began to think of that 
happy home which he once had, and 
from which he was now separated ia 
consequence of his folly. He con- 



32 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL* 



trasted his present condition with his 
condition as it formerly was, under his 
dear father's roof. There, said he to 
himself, are quiet and abundance and 
happiness. There, even the servants 
have enough and more than enough of 
good and wholesome food; while I, 
who was once their young master, and 
who might still have been looked up to 
by them with respect, as well as have 
been beloved by the whole family, am 
here in this distant country, on the 
point of perishing with hunger. 

There was another thing which add- 
ed to his suffering. He appears to 
have been brought up religiously, but 
to have forgotten on this subject, the 
good instructions w hich had been given 
him. I cannot find that until this mo- 
ment, in all his uneasiness to get away 
from home and from those parents 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 33 



whom God had commanded him to 
honor, and in the midst of his mirth, 
and revelry, and extravagance, and bad 
company, he had ever once thought 
that he was offending God. 

It is likely that his conscience re- 
proved him at first, and seemed to say 
to hrm that he was doing wrong in be- 
ing so discontented, but that, as he dis- 
regarded the warning voice, it soon 
ceased. Or if it was revived again, 
when he first began to mingle with bad 
associates, in that distant country to 
which he had gone, it was soon drown- 
ed in the intoxicating cup, or hushed 
by the songs, and mirth, and wickedness 
in which he joined. — He that doubts 
this should read what the prophet Isaiah 
says about the drunken revels of the 
people of the East, in his day. 

But now his sleeping or seared con- 



34 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



science was quite awake ; and he felt, 
most keenly, not only that he was a 
great loser by his folly, and that he had 
wronged his father ; but that he had 
done what was still worse, he had sin- 
ned against his Father in Heaven. In- 
deed he seems to have regarded this as 
the principal source of his trouble. 
Perhaps he could have endured all the 
rest ; but the thought of what he had 
done to God, was almost beyond en- 
durance. 

But was his father still living? Or 
if living, would he receive him ? — He 
does not know. He knows that he 
was once kind, merciful and forgiving ; 
but would the most merciful parent in 
the world have any regard to such a 
wicked son as he now was ? Or would 
it be even right for him to forgive and 
receive to his arms such a rebellious 
and ungrateful child as he was ? 



STORY OF tIiE PRODIGAL, 



35 



There was no time to be lost, how- 
ever. He must perish where he was. 
He could but perish any where else. 
Perhaps his father would take him in 
as a servant, if not as a son. He was 
resolved to make an effort. And as 
soon as the resolve was made, he start- 
ed. He set out for the land of his na- 
tivity. 

How long he was in reaching his 
father's house, I cannot tell ; or what 
happened to him by the way. He 
must have begged his food and lodging, 
as he passed along. But this he could 
submit to, perhaps, as long as there 
was any prospect of better times. It 
is probable, too, that he began by this 
time to entertain hopes of forgiveness 
from his Father in Heaven, and that this 
gave him much consolation in his dis- 
tress, and rendered his journey much 



STOEY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



less gloomy than it otherwise would 
have been. 

The truth is, he was now beginning to 
be truly penitent ; and true repentance, 
from the first moment it exists, gives 
us more or less of peace. It has justly 
been called by Mrs. Steele, a " painful, 
pleasing anguish." From the hour it 
enters our bosoms, things always begin 
to go better with us. If sin was not 
offensive to God, and if nobody were 
ever likely to be punished on account 
of it, still it would be for our own hap- 
piness, even here in this world, that 
we should repent and reform. Those 
who are sinning constantly, feel miser- 
able. There is a hell already burning 
within their own bosoms. And so long 
as it continues to burn, they cannot, of 
course, but be miserable ; — whether 
they are in this world or some other. 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 37 



CHAPTER IV. 

TJie young man's arrival. His father goes out 
to meet him. Forgives him. Arrays him 
in the best apparel. Makes a feast for him. 
Conduct of his elder brother. 

The young man, in his poverty and 
wretchedness, and perhaps in his rags, 
was now drawing nigh to the land of 
his nativity — to the land which had 
formerly been a source of so much hap- 
piness to him. It is not easy for us to 
conceive what a strange conflict of feel- 
ing—mingled emotions of hope and 
fear — must have agitated his bosom, as 
he began to gaze on the fields, and 
groves, and hills, and vales, with which, 
notwithstanding his discontent with 
home, he had once associated no other 
feelings than those of delight ; and es- 
4 



38 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL-* 



pecially as he began to approach the 
hospitable mansion in which he was 
born and educated. 

Was his father still alive ? Would 
he know 7 him ? Would he receive him? 
Or would he spurn him from his bosom, 
and regard him as an outcast ? Or dis- 
owning him as a son, w ould he admit 
him on his premises, as a hired servant ? 
Or if his father should utterly cast him 
off, what would be the feelings of his 
mother, if he had one living ? Would 
either she or his brother be likely to in- 
tercede with his father in his behalf? 
It is probable that in this struggle of 
feeling, and amid this uncertainty, he 
moved on but slowly. But he did not 
stop. He persevered in his first reso- 
lution of returning. 

But what must have been his sur- 



8T0KY OF THE PIlODtGAL. 89 



prise, when he saw his aged father 
rushing forth from the house and ap- 
proaching him ? For he had scarcely 
come over the hill, in sight of the 
house, when the old gentleman saw and 
knew him, and knew as it seems — but 
how he knew it I cannot tell you — that 
he was penitent. This was enough for 
him. He was as ready to forgive, as 
the son was to ask forgiveness at his 
hands, and much more so. Overjoyed, 
therefore, at his return, he went forth 
to meet him instantly. Not with a 
slow and measured pace, either ; — he 
ran. Neither age nor infirmity kept 
him from yielding to the feelings of na- 
ture, and embracing in his arms his 
long-lost prodigal, but now repentant 
and returning son. 



40 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL* 




Never, perhaps, was there a more 
joyful meeting. Never, in all probabil- 
ity, was there more sincere sorrow and 
genuine repentance on the one hand, 
or a more hearty forgiveness and joyful 
welcome on the other. There was 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 41 



nothing here of pretence. All was real ; 
unaffected. What was said and done 
was the result of feeling, and the lan- 
guage of the heart. 

When the first emotions had so far 
subsided that his thoughts could find 
utterance, the young man confessed, 
without the least reserve, his guilt. 
First, he acknowledged his sinfulness 
in the sight of God ; and then in the 
sight of his father. 

He did not ask to be restored to the 
family as a son, however. He frankly 
owned that he was wholly unfit for this. 
Nor was it an affected humility that 
led him to do so. He really felt that 
he did not deserve the privilege ; and 
that the situation of a hired servant 
was quite good enough for him. And 
such a situation w 7 as all that he pre- 
sumed to ask for. 



42 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



But the compassionate father did not 
view the matter quite as the son did 
The son's humility and consciousness 
of ill desert, was the very reason in 
the mind of the father, why he ought 
to reinstate him in his former condi- 
tion. It was enough that he was pen- 
itent. True, he did not rejoice that he 
had been guilty. But he rejoiced in 
that Divine mercy and goodness which 
had moved him to return, and to spend 
the rest of his days in living as he ought 
to live. — It does not appear that he 
asked him any questions where he had 
been, or what he had done ; or in what 
manner he had so soon expended his 
money. He left it to his son to do as 
he pleased about relating the particu- 
lars. As I said before, it was enough 
for him that he had repented and re- 
turned. 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 43 



The father, not satisfied with forgiv- 
ing him in words, and telling him how 
welcome he was to all the privileges 
of his house, as a member of the fam- 
ily, proceeded to give him a better 
dress. — I have already told you that he 
probably returned in rags. 

In those days and in those Eastern 
countries, a part of the. wealth of the 
great men consisted in ready made 
clothing ; of which some had several 
hundred suits. The father of the young 
man had much of this sort of wealth. 
He sent for the best suit he had, and 
ordered it to be put on his son. He 
also bestowed on him many other 
marks of attention, such as putting a 
ring on his hand, and shoes or sandals 
on his feet. None but sons w r ere ac- 
customed to wear sandals. Servants 
usually went barefooted. And as for 
rings, these were not only marks of 



44 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 

high favor or great affection, but of 
wealth, dignity, office, &c. — So that 
the treatment, in this case, was even 
better than that of a son ; — it was 
almost like that of a prince. 

Nor was this all. The father hon- 
ored his returning, repentant son by a 
feast. He caused a choice calf to be 
killed, and an entertainment to be made, 
and had the son set down to it. In 
addition to all this, the company who 
were present testified their joy, by mu- 
sic and dancing ; for these were very 
common in that country. 

To those who expressed surprise that 
the house should be made a scene of so 
much mirth, the father only said that it 
w r as one of the happiest days of his life ; 
and that as it was customary to indulge 
in mirth and festivity at the birth of a 
child, it could not be less proper to be 



STORY OF THE PHODIGAL. 45 



merry on occasions like this. For the 
restoration of a long-lost son, whom he 
had regarded as dead ; and above all, 
his restoration from a course of wick- 
edness to a state of penitence and a 
life of amendment, was of much more 
consequence to him and to the world, 
than the mere birth of an infant ; and 
ought to be regarded as such by them 
all. 

In the midst of their joy, however, 
they either forgot to call in the elder 
brother, or else he was at such a dis- 
tance from the house that they did not 
think it expedient. For the younger 
brother appears to have returned in the 
middle of the day, while the elder 
brother w r as in the fields engaged at his 
work as usual. 

But the music and dancing had con- 
tinued till nearly night, and as the elder 
4 * 



46 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



brother was coming in, he heard it. 
What could it mean ? he thought within 
himself. Probably he had not witnessed 
such an occurrence in his father's house 
for years, nor in fact ever, unless it was 
at the birth of his younger brother ; 
which indeed he could scarcely remem- 
ber. So calling: for one of the servants, 
he inquired what had happened, to 
cause so much joy. 

The servant related, faithfully, all the 
particulars. He told him that his long- 
lost brother had come home safe and 
sound ; and that his father was so over- 
joyed to receive him again, thoroughly 
reformed as he was, that he had made 
him a feast, and had killed for him the 
fatted calf. 

One might think that the elder broth- 
er, as good a man as he was, would 
have joined in the general joy, and 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 47 



rushed with eagerness to the arms of 
his brother. But it was not so. It 
was far otherwise. He was envious. 
It gave him pain to see his brother, 
(who, as the servant had told him, had 
confessed to his father all his miscon- 
duct, and what vile company he had 
kept,) received with so much kindness 
and treated with so many marks of at- 
tention. Indeed he was not only envi- 
ous, but angry ; and he refused to go 
in. 

No sooner had the servant informed 
the father what the elder brother said, 
and how he appeared to feel, than he 
went out and tried to soothe him, and 
persuade him to come in and join in the 
general festivities. But the son stood 
back for some time, and even reasoned 
with his. father in regard to what he 
deemed an impropriety in his conduct. 



48 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



He told him how faithful and obedi- 
ent to him he had been all his life long ; 
that he had never in a single instance 
broken one of his commands. And 
yet, said he, you never gave me so 
small a trifle as even a kid, that I 
might make a feast and call together 
my friends. But now, as soon as your 
son has come, who has spent his share 
of your property in the worst of com- 
pany, you allow him to have a feast at 
once ; and not only so, but you give 
him the choicest calf we had, to kill for 
the occasion. 

Though this statement of his son was 
true, and though the reasoning at first 
view appeared plausible, yet it contains 
one thing that evinced a bad heart. — 
He does not show the spirit of forgive- 
ness, in the least. If his father had 
even done wrong, he ought not to have 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 49 



blamed his younger brother for his 
father's fault. Indeed he should have 
forgiven the young man. 

But did he not ? Oh no, not at first. 
Mark his words. " As soon as your son 
had come," he says. He does not say 
my brother. He seems not to own him. 
More than this — he seems by saying 
your son, to cast blame on his father. 
It was as much as if he had said, as 
soon as your son, a son after your own 
heart, one whose wicked conduct you 
approve ; as soon as this son arrives, 
you make much ado about it, while you 
overlook and neglect me. 

Did the father retort upon him for 
his disrespectful language ? Not in the 
least. He told him that he had every 
day, his whole life long, been receiving 
tokens of his kindness ; that he had 
twice as much property as his younger 



50 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



brother v\ hen the division was made, 
and at his own decease, would have the 
whole. That therefore he had not the 
least reason to complain. He even 
reasoned with him still further, and en- 
deavored to show him that what he had 
done, was not only free from blame, 
but entirely proper and praiseworthy. 

Whether he succeeded in convincing 
his son that his feelings were wrong, 
and in inducing him to come in andjoin 
the company, I cannot tell you. It is 
hardly possible to believe that so good a 
young man as the elder brother was, in 
general, should stand out against the 
reasonings and entreaties of so kind and 
excellent a father. Is it not to be 
hoped, that after a little more reflection, 
the voice of conscience, telling him he 
was wrong, began to be heard, that his 
envy and his anger began to disappear, 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 51 



and that he went in, embraced his pen- 
itent brother, and instead of longer 
damping the general joy, endeavored to 
heighten it ? 

There are many young persons, I 
know, who would not do this, in simi- 
lar circumstances. They are too proud, 
when they have once taken a stand, in 
any thing, to change their bourse, even 
after they find they are in the wrong. 
Besides they are utterly unforgiving. 
Oh ! how can such people, who will 
not forgive others, even their own 
brethren and sisters, expect that God, 
for Christ's sake, ever will forgive 
them ? 



52 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL* 



CHAPTER V. 

Reflections on the foregoing. 

Probably there is no young person 
of six years of age who can read the fore- 
going story without perceiving, long be- 
fore he gets through, that it is nothing 
but a paraphrase of that beautiful para- 
ble which was uttered by our Savior, 
and is found in the latter part of the 
fifteenth chapter of the Gospel accord- 
ing to Luke, about the two sons ; or 
as it is usually called, the Prodigal Son. 
I do not expect that I have added to 
the beauty of the story — far from it. 
All I can hope for is that I may have 
led careless readers, if there are any 
such, to pay more attention to some of 
the particulars of the story, than they 
were before accustomed to do. 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 53 



If there are any of my readers who 
have not already made proper reflec- 
tions on the parable, they may find it 
useful to attend to what I have to say 
in this closing chapter. 

The Pharisees had complained, most 
bitterly, of our Savior, because he spent 
so much of his time among the publi- 
cans and sinners, as they were called. 
To defend his character against their 
wicked charges, and to show them that 
he only did the same thing in principle 
which they and every body else did, he 
related to them three parables. The 
first w T as about the hundred sheep. 
The second was about the ten pieces 
of silver. The third was about the two 
sons ; that, I mean, which I have been 
relating to you. 

It was the Savior's object, in these 
three parables, as I have already in- 



54 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



timated, to show the Pharisees that 
it was perfectly right for him to receive 
any body who was penitent, however 
wicked they had been before, even men 
who were as bad as they took the " pub- 
licans and sinners" to be : and to show 
them also that their own conduct in ob- 
jecting to his doing so was very un- 
reasonable. What effect those para- 
bles had, particularly the latter, we can 
only judge by their silence. 

The elder son, as vou will doubtless 
perceive, represents the Pharisees ; the 
younger, the returning or repentant 
sinner ; no matter whether that sinner 
is Jew or Gentile. By the father is 
meant God, who is always willing and 
ready, and if I may so say, more than 
ready to receive those who are peni- 
tent. He does not wait long, as the 
parable plainly shows, after the sinner 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 55 



is disposed to return ; but he sees him 
a great way off, as it were — that is he 
perceives the first movings of his peni- 
tent heart — and goes out at once to 
meet him. Nor does he wait, as proud 
and haughty men sometimes do, to hear 
the w r hole of the confessions of their fel- 
low men ; but even while they are yet 
speaking, before they are half through, 
he has compassion on them, and re- 
ceives and embraces and forgives them. 

Let me say again, that there is not 
a more beautiful or a more affecting 
story in the whole Bible than this ; 
whether we regard it as a narrative of 
w^hat was a real fact, or only supposed. 
The Bible indeed contains many affect- 
ing narratives and parables ; such as 
few can read without emotion, if thev 
can without tears. Among these are 
the story of Joseph ; of the friendship 



56 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 



of David and Jonathan ; of David's 
conduct when his child died ; of his 
grief at the death of Absalom ; of the 
resurrection of Lazarus ; of Paul's fare- 
well address to the Elders of the Church 
of Ephesus, &c. But of all these, af- 
fecting as they are, none is more so 
than the parable of the repenting and 
returning prodigal. Every circum- 
stance, as it is related in the Bible, is 
perfectly natural, every word is full of 
meaning, and every figure beautiful. 
What I have added, about the proba- 
bility of the older brother's giving up 
his envious feelings after a little reflec- 
tion, does not add to the force or beauty 
of the parable ; but was thrown in with 
a view to other purposes — that is to 
leave as favorable an impression as is in 
any way consistent with truth, in re- 
gard to his general character. . 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 57 



Let this affecting story remind my 
readers that they are all, without a 
single exception, sinners against God. 
There is not one of you* — no matter 
whether he is older or younger — who 
can say truly, and from the heart, that 
he has, in every instance, since he w r as 
born, done exactly right. But whoever 
has sinned in one point, is guilty of all. 
God commands perfect obedience to 
his whole law ; and he who has done 
one wrong thing has failed to render 
that perfect obedience ; and therefore 
stands exposed to the punishment which 
God has pronounced against transgress- 
ors. 

But let them also be reminded that 
God is ever ready to welcome their re- 
turn ; and even more ready to forgive, 
when they say from the heart, " Father, 
I have sinned against Heaven and in 



58 STORY OF THE PRODIGAL* 



thy sight," than they are to seek that 
forgiveness. 

Those who have not true affection 
for their Father in Heaven, are, like 
the young prodigal, uneasy, selfish, 
greedy of gain, either of pleasure or 
profit ; anxious to get away from home, 
and to get away as far as they can. 
They waste their blessings — the gifts 
of God ; and regardless of the future, as 
well as ungrateful, they reduce them- 
selves to a state of spiritual want and 
misery. They behave, indeed, as if 
they were insane. They have brought 
it on themselves, however ; though it 
is difficult to cure it. 

Sinners against God, whether we 
call them insane or not, will not return 
to God till they come to themselves. 
And when they become truly penitent, 
they feel that they have sinned first and 



STORY OF THE PRODIGAL. 59 



more than all the rest, against their 
Heavenly Father. 

Nor is it God our Heavenly Father, 
alone, who is pleased with the tear of 
penitence, and the prompt and cheer- 
ful return and submission of a rebel son. 
There is rejoicing among the angels of 
God, on these occasions, not inferior to 
that which welcomed into being the 
material universe, when " the morning 
stars sang together, and all the sons of 
God shouted forjoy." 



4 



4 



